


A Mother's Claim

by NinaFey



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaFey/pseuds/NinaFey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Van de Kamp thinks about her son, William, his parents and what they mean to each other. Set after the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mother's Claim

Julia Van de Kamp wiped sweat off her forehead, there had been much to do in the house today and it was a hot day for Wyoming. It was soon to be the yearly Van de Kamp family reunion and the following day her farm house would be filled with her husband’s relatives, old, young and in between. She was thankful for busy days, they kept her mind occupied and held other thoughts at bay. Julia had come to dread rest for some years and as she leaned against the sink looking out from her kitchen window an all too familiar thought crept into her mind. It was her son, William and the mixed feelings of love and guilt she felt. The day he came into their lives, Julia paced up and down her living room, asking herself, her husband and God ‘why now?’. After all those years of failed attempts, why give them a child now? It was a question she asked the adoption agent who only told her that William’s mother had been single and in a difficult position. And looking at the wide eyed baby she could easily how it must have destroyed her to part with him. That day, a weight dropped on her shoulders and it never left her. 

The thought that she was stealing another woman’s son consumed her, something she had never expected when signing her name at the bottom of each application form. At first these thoughts were shared with Jackson, her husband. He assured her that there was nothing to feel guilty about, William’s birth mother couldn’t keep him for one reason or another and that the baby was lucky to have them as parents, especially her for a mother. But after the first month it became clear that Jackson was growing exasperated; unable to understand her feelings. Julia knew she was supposed to feel nothing but joy in finally raising a child, but she still couldn’t help but think that it should be someone else bouncing William on her knees. As he grew older she tried to extrapolate his features and imagine what his mother might have looked like. Did she have those same sharp blue eyes? Did her gaze also burn? Was her hair thick like his? Was that bump in his nose hers or from his father? Those obsessive questions exhausted her until she added more and more chores to her daily life. Julia could see Jackson concerning himself and his quiet remarks about her overworking herself were heard but politely ignored.

During William’s younger years the thoughts were quieter and the weight on her shoulders wasn't as heavy, she felt happiness when she let him be her kitchen helper and taught him his nightly prayers. He was a quiet boy, often caught in his thoughts. Jackson attributed that to him being an only child from an older couple, said he’d grow out of it and that surely playing with the farm animals was bound to help him come out of his shell. She only nodded at this with scepticism; in the bottom she knew William sensed he was different from them in one way or another. It was a feeling she tried to suppress and write off as paranoia, but then a five year old William confirmed her fears. He was seating on 4 books and a cushion at the kitchen table, crayons spread out everywhere and he was hard at work. It was an endearing scene and Julia went over to kiss his head and ruffle his hair; she glanced down at her son’s work and felt her stomach tighten and a chill in her spine. William drawing was crude, but it was a woman with bright red hair and blue eyes that matched his. She wasn’t like any woman she or her husband knew, instantly she knew who she was. His mother’s claim on him was never broken. Even so, she dared asked him who the lady in his drawing was he only replied with “From my dreams. I see her every night. She sings sometimes.” He was so innocent in his statement, as if she were his own creation. Julia never shared this with Jackson.

The Van de Kamp family reunions only served to remind Julia of her son’s differences and even otherness. He never seemed unhappy just extremely aware of himself and others. Always observing and content with just listening most of the time. Jackson’s brothers would try to engage the “little man”; they were both old enough to be his grandfather. William would indulge them, talked to them about farm animals or baseball. He even let his aunts pat his bottom without a word and smiled when they pinched his cheeks. By everyone’s accounts, he was uncomplicated and sweet boy. He helped set and clear the table; he respected his elders and obeyed without objection. But no one in the party knew that William would promptly withdraw to his room as soon as he was allowed and sit in his bed reading Superman comics or drawing maps of the stars with a half-finished bag of sunflower seeds. Her son knew, but did not ask. To the point that it became strange; she anxiously waited for the day William asked why his face was so unlike his fathers or why his hair was thick and straight when hers was curly and his father’s thin. One day, not long ago, she found his sketchbook, he was more talented than nine year old had any business being, and had to lock herself in the bathroom afterwards. There were two separate portraits in one page, too detailed and vivid; one was the same red-headed woman. Her eyes seemed to jump out of the page, William had drawn her smiling and with her long hair framing her face. That’s the way she must have looked when she sang lullabies to him, Julia thought clenching the sketchbook in her hands. The other was a man, drawn from the perspective of an infant held in arms, she realized. This man was a new development, but there was no mistaking it, he was William’s father. The same bump adorned the man’s nose and he shared William’s smile, as if he was the only one in on a private joke. In fact, they both seemed to be sharing the joke, gazing at each other. How comforting it must be for him and how cruel it felt for her. Mechanically she put the sketchbook back, removing any evidence of her discovery or intrusion. Mrs. Van de Kamp cried sitting on a closed toiled and again, Jackson never knew. She was then petrified by the idea that one day the couple would show up in a random newspaper story, on the news or even as strangers just passing through town.

Now, she realized she had been staring out her kitchen window for far too long. Revisiting things that should be forgotten for her own good and there were brothers and sisters in laws and nieces and nephews to worry about. It was well past time she put fears of one day finding a note pinned to William’s pillow saying he had ran away to find his real parents. Julia focused on images of her son feeding the livestock and riding his bike across the mud; of William safely doing his science homework on the kitchen table. Julia tried to conjure up all the times she placed a band-aid on his scrapes and the Johnny Cash songs Jackson sang to him to put him to sleep. But all these memories couldn’t negate her son’s portraits and dreams. Maybe if she tried harder to push those thoughts away, to deny them a place in her mind…

“Mom, you alright?” William’s voice broke her concentration. His brow was furrowed in a way that almost suggested he had been eavesdropping on her thoughts.

“Yeah, sweetie. Everything’s fine.” Julia smiled at him, hoping that would be enough to reassure him. “I’m just not looking forward to Uncle Bobby’s fat cow jokes.” Maybe a joke would keep up her facade. 

“Or Auntie May telling me I’m too thin and tall.” William smiled like that sketch of his father. “It’s only a couple of days, mom. Don’t worry.” He offered. Sometimes it was frightening to hear such words from an unbroken young voice. Julia pulled him closer and planted a kiss on top of his head.

“I think I’ll make it through, Will.”

“Me too.”


End file.
